Not Like I Do
by TingedAutumn
Summary: There are a million things about Rachel Berry that Jesse will never know or understand. But Finn does. Set right after the events in Funeral.


The desire to go to Broadway is like an incessant niggle, now, a voice in the back of his head when he teaches Spanish, when he runs dance steps, when he behaves like he's always done except for that weird voice. The voice that sounds uncannily like the suave announcer at a Broadway awards show. That announcer who says, in a perfect, carrying voice, "Will Schuester!"

He takes a week off to help April set up her show, feeling guilty but exhilarated all the while, and when he returns, he's happy to slip into the school and up to his office where, to his surprise, Emma Pillsbury is sitting at his desk, writing notes into a little notepad. She looks up and smiles at him when he sees her.

"Emma! What are you doing here?"

"Jesse said he needed to use my office because it had maximum vocal carrying capacity, so I just camped up here. You don't mind, do you?"

Will dropped his bag on the chair in front of his desk and shook his head, smiling. "Not at all. But that's not right of Jesse. I'll get him to return it to you."

"Oh, it's no trouble! To be honest, I enjoyed the change of scenery. I needed it."

Will personally didn't think a change from one office to another counted as change of scenery, but he bit his tongue. "How's rehearsal been?"

Emma ran a hand through her neat red hair. "Oh, it's been … a little hectic. Tensions are high, and you know Jesse and Finn aren't very close. I've got Finn working on some dance routines Mike laid out for him, though, that should keep him busy." She smiled at Will, who smiled back.

A loud _crash!_ broke them from their reverie, and Will looked at Emma, shocked. "What was that?"

Emma was already rising from her chair in a resigned sort of way. "That would be Finn's dancing."

When they reached the choir room, however, it was not an apologetic Finn who greeted them. It was a Finn Hudson, scarlet with rage, mercilessly pounding Jesse St. James into the floor while Rachel tried in vain to pull the two apart.

With a yell, Will threw himself into the fray, Emma at his heels, and grabbed Finn by his shirt, pulling him upright with a supreme effort even he didn't know he had. Finn didn't go quietly; he fought like a bull to get back to beating Jesse, who was standing behind Emma, breathing heavy, sporting a cut lip and a look of pure murder.

"What the hell is going on!" Will demanded angrily, now pining Finn between him and the piano.

"We were rehearsing-" Rachel started.

"I came in here to find that asshole with his tongue down Rachel's throat!" Finn bellowed, making another bid for Jesse's own. Will and Emma exchanged one shocked look, but as they were both restraining their respective male leads, didn't say anything.

"What do you care, you've got Ms. Prom Queen, and what we do is none of your business!" Jesse snarled suddenly.

"Jesse!" Will said sharply, as Finn let out an indiscernible bellow and attempted to break free once again. "Go! Take a walk, calm down, and meet me in Miss Pillsbury office! Now!" He added, seeing Jesse hesitate.

With a storm off that would put any one of Rachel's to shame, Jesse left.

"Now," Will said, deeming it safe to release Finn, who was still quite red in the face. "What is going on?"

"I told you!" Finn snapped, apparently not registering who he was talking to. "He's the enemy, he egged Rachel last year and now he thinks he can just waltz back into her life and -"

"You're not my boyfriend anymore, Finn!" Rachel said suddenly. Her face was pale and her eyes were glistening with tears, but she stood to her fullest height and fixed a determined glare on Finn. "You don't have the right to tell me who I can or can't socialize with!"

"_But he doesn't love you like I do!"___

And then there is silence. Rachel, eyes wide and mouth in a silent _Oh_, Will and Emma frozen in place, and Finn, big, awkward Finn, standing in front of Rachel with eyes only for her.

"He doesn't," He repeated, seemingly gaining strength from every passing minute Rachel didn't slap him. "He doesn't. He'll never know how many freckles you've got across your nose, or-or how you like your hot chocolate, or how you always tear up when Mufasa dies during the Lion King, or how you always, always hum Rain on My Parade when you're doing your homework, or how you bake banana bread when you think I'm sad. He doesn't know any of that. He's never gonna know that. I do. I love you. I've always loved you. I've always know."


End file.
